


The Greatest

by Dawninlatin



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Guess I'm in a mood..., One Shot, Song: The Greatest (Lana Del Rey)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:47:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26700904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawninlatin/pseuds/Dawninlatin
Summary: After breaking up with Dorian, Manon reflects back on their relationship while trying to make an important decision.Inspired by: The Greatest - Lana Del Rey
Relationships: Manon Blackbeak/Dorian Havilliard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	The Greatest

**Author's Note:**

> I've actually written something!
> 
> School's very busy, but I've been working on this little thing in between classes, so here you go:)
> 
> I promised I wouldn't make those cliché song-fics, but music is what inspires me, so sucks for you I guess.
> 
> Enjoy it! Even if it's a little sad:(

_It’s the wine, you should just go to bed,_ Manon told herself as she stared at her phone, at _his_ name.

Five months had passed since they broke up, yet she still had his number. Did he still have hers?

He’d called her, in the beginning. Every day. She never picked up. 

Manon couldn’t blame him for reaching out, not when she’d ended things so abruptly, without a proper explanation. 

After a few weeks, the calls had become less and less frequent, until they simply stopped. 

She missed seeing her screen light up with his name. Somehow, it had made her feel as if a part of him was still with her.

Her apartment was quiet, dark, the howling wind the only sound, moonlight peeking in from behind the heave curtains. It was why she’d loved it so much when she’d first gotten it. But now…the lack of his presence, the lack of his warmth, only made it empty. Too empty.

How had she ended up here?

_Manon leaned against the smooth bar, giving the man in front of her a once over._

_«Hello, Princeling,» she drawled, taking a sip of her drink._

_The man looked up, his eyes meeting hers. He swallowed, once, taking in the sight of her in that short, black dress that left little to the imagination._

_«Princeling?» he said, voice low and smooth, amusement shining in his strikingly blue eyes._

_She molded her red lips into a teasing smirk, saying, «I don’t know your name, so Princeling it is.»_

_A dark chuckle escaped his mouth. «You can call me Dorian.»_

_«Nice to meet you, Dorian»_

_He took her in with such intensity, his eyes promising a night filled with urgent touches and breathless moans. «And you, darling, do you have a name?»_

_There was a question hanging in the air between them. A challenge. A dare._

_Manon looked at Dorian from beneath her lashes, saying in a breathless voice, «If this night goes as I hope, you might just find out.»_

Dorian was supposed to be a one night stand, and nothing more. Manon had vowed as much when she’d first spotted him at the bar.

But then he had followed her home, had said _yes_ when she asked him to come inside, had fucked her like no one else ever had. 

And after, when she’d laid in his arms, their breaths ragged and bodies too exhausted to bother moving away from one another, Manon would normally find some way to get the guy out of her apartment as quick as possible with no intent of calling him again. Dorian had been different.

Back then, she’d managed to convince herself that the sex was simply too good to let go. At least that’s what she’d told herself when she’d let him stay with her through the night, sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, not touching, but together nonetheless. There were no harm in two consenting adults having some fun together, right? How wrong she’d been.

Now, she knew she’d let him stay, not because of the way he touched her, but because of the way he wasn’t afraid of her, like so many others had been. 

Dorian challenged her, and Manon loved it. Loved him. 

_«Don’t tell me you’re ticklish, Manon?»_

_They were lying in bed, watching a movie, and_ **_cuddling,_ ** _of all things, when Dorian had accidentally brushed his hand against her stomach. Manon had let out a yelp, practically bouncing away from him._

_The touch had been featherlight, barely-there, but that was the exact problem, because Manon was ticklish, very ticklish. Not that she’d ever tell Dorian that._

_«Not at all,» she told him, furiously shaking her head while she clutched her stomach, keeping his hands from discovering the embarrassing truth._

_Dorian raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. «Oh, I think you are.»_

_He leaned closer, so Manon wriggled away. «Don’t you dare.»_

_«I’m not gonna tickle you, promise,» he said then, his eyes all serious. Dorian brought his face close to hers, and Manon relaxed, waiting for the kiss that was about to come._

_Then, one of his hands brushed against her stomach again, and Manon squealed, burying her head in the nearby pillow. «Traitorous worm,» she hissed at him, giving Dorian her deadliest glare, accompanied by her middle finger._

_«Do you really hate being tickled that much? Why?» All mischief was gone from his face, only quiet curiosity remained._

_She liked that about him. How he never judged, only wondered._

_«Because,» Manon grumbled, crossing her arms. «If you start tickling me, I’ll start laughing.»_

_Dorian looked confused, and Manon realized then that he had never heard her laugh. To be fair, very few had, but it was still a bit weird. They’d been seeing each other for a while now._

_«Why would you laughing be such a bad thing?»_

_Manon silently cursed herself for giving in so easily. «Because my laughter is the ugliest laughter I’ve ever heard.» She cringed as she said it. «I’ve been told it sounds like a dying cat,» Manon stated matter-of-factly._

_Dorian howled at that, before placing a kiss on her forehead, pulling her close. «It can’t be that bad.»_

_«It really is,» Manon whispered, shy all of a sudden. It terrified her, how new and strange everything was with Dorian._

_«Only one way to find out,» Dorian mumbled, the words so low that Manon didn’t fully register them before he tackled her, his fingers torturously beginning to tickle her._

_«Please,» Manon managed to gasp out between fits of that gruesome, shrieking, cackling laughter of hers._

_«Dorian!» She couldn’t breathe as she squirmed beneath him, Dorian enjoying every second of it._

_When he finally stopped, both of them panting, Dorian studied her, his eyes full of wonder. Manon looked away, biting her lip. «I told you it was bad,» she muttered._

_«Your laughter is…unique, I’ll give you that.» They both chuckled at his words, but then Dorian stilled, looking at her once more._

_He ghosted a finger over her lower lip and brought his face close to hers. «Still, it’s the most beautiful sound I’v ever heard.»_

Manon had never been good with affection, whether she was the one giving or receiving. Due to growing up in the care of a cold, cruel grandmother, she simply didn’t know how. Not until Dorian, at least.

He’d taught her how to show love and compassion through kind words and tender touches, kissing her _just because._

Their relationship had gradually evolved into something more than casual sex, things like eating dinner or watching a movie together becoming natural.

Slowly, but surely, she’d let him into her life, a steady, comforting presence. 

_«I should head home, I’m too tired to have sex tonight anyway.»_

_Dorian looked up from the book he was reading, shifting his gaze to where she was nearly asleep on the couch, laptop closed by her feet. He gave her a warm smile, scooting closer. Manon sighed as he put his arm around her, pulling her into his chest._

_«You can stay, you know.» She lifted an eyebrow. «I like sleeping next to you,» Dorian said, throwing her a pointed stare. «And so do you, even if you’ll never admit it.»_

_Manon let out a snort, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous accusation._

_He poked her in the side, but Manon was too tired for their playful banter to bother with a retort, so she sighed once more, nestling further against his chest and looking up at him. «You’ll let me stay then?» Her voice was raspy, laced with exhaustion. «Even when I hog all the blankets?» she whispered, placing a featherlight kiss on his jaw._

_«Even when you hog all the blankets.»_

Sometimes, even now, Manon would wake up in the middle of the night, reaching for the warm body she’d grown so used to having beside her, only to find the bed cold, her heart breaking all over again.

_Gods,_ how she missed him.

All her life, she’d thought that to love was to be weak, yet Manon had never felt so weak as she did now, as she’d done all those months ago, all alone with no one but her own cold heart to keep her company. 

It wasn’t a weakness, to love. What made her weak, was her fear. Her fear of giving away her heart and soul to someone else, only for them to leave her out in the cold, alone and broken.

She had a voice in her head, a voice that sounded an awful lot like her grandmother, who would whisper vicious lies, that fear installing itself deeper, and deeper. _You’ll never be loved, just look at the mess that is your life. He_ ** _will_** _leave you. You know it. Better to hurt him before he can hurt you._

In the end, that fear had been her doom.

_«Don’t take it personal,» Dorian muttered against her hair, his hand drawing soothing circles on her thigh. «My parents aren’t pleasant to anyone.»_

_Manon couldn’t seem to relax her too tense body, her mind going over every second of the dinner they’d left merely an hour ago, trying to find out whatever had gone wrong._

_Who was she kidding? Everything had gone wrong._

_How on earth had she even agreed to have dinner with his parents? Sure, they’d been seeing each other for months, but letting herself be introduced as his girlfriend? She’d known it would be a disaster the second they’d walked into the restaurant._

_And she had been right. Dorian had warned her beforehand, but Manon had in no way been prepared for the many questions his parents would ask._

_Dorian, ever the mediator, had tried to minimize the damage, but it hadn’t stopped his parents’ disapproving looks when she’d told them she’d dropped out of law school and now worked as a freelance scriptwriter, or that she didn’t really have a family, at least not one she wanted to talk about._

_She wasn’t charismatic like the other girls he’d surely dated, had no plans of getting married or having kids soon, even if she dated Dorian, and she’d had to fight very hard not to strangle her boyfriend’s father when they began to talk about politics._

_Manon wasn’t the kind of girl who’d fit in with his family. She smiled too little and cared too much._

_«They hate me,» she told Dorian, voice sounding more defeated than she’d intended._

_«Manon, no-» Dorian begun, but they both knew the truth, there were no need to lie._

_«My parents are very hard to impress,» he said at last, sighing loudly. He sounded just as tired as she did. It had been a long week…_

_Manon was ready to go to sleep, to try and forget this dinner ever happened and go on with her life. She didn’t know what bothered her the most, the fact that Dorian’s parents most definitely disapproved of her, or that she cared about their opinion._

_«It doesn’t matter anyways…» Dorian tried to comfort, but Manon was only half listening. There were too many thoughts in her head at once, and her breath began to quicken as she tried to sort them out._

_Besides, in the end, it always mattered._

_A mistake, all of it. What had made her think it was a good idea to meet his parents? Manon didn’t do relationships, didn’t date, for this exact reason. She had been so, so stupid…_

_«Manon, it’s okay,» Dorian told her, clearly noting her growing state of panic. Manon cursed herself for moving closer to his body, seeking his warmth. She needed to calm herself before Dorian saw her like this, so vulnerable and utterly exposed._

_She willed herself to_ **_not cry_ ** _in front of him, but then Dorian tore her apart, shredding every bit of control she’d held onto, by leaning in close, and voicing the three words Manon feared the most._

_«I love you.»_

_She went rigid in his arms._

_Frantically shaking her head, Manon breathed, «Please don’t.»_

_Then she shot up from the bed, backing against the opposite wall. Her chest tightened even more at the sight of confusion and heartbreak on Dorian’s face._

_He got up as well, slowly walking towards her. «What’s wrong, babe?» The way he looked at her, his eyes filled with pity and sorrow, Manon couldn’t take it._

_«I c-can’t,» she choked out, hands covering her face._

_She couldn’t stay her any longer, had to get out, away._

_Her heart thundered in her chest, a deafening roar present in her ears while she gathered all her clothes, all her things, Manon hurried towards the door, breaths coming out in hitched gasps._

_«Manon!» Dorian called after her, trying to stop her, but she twisted away from him._

_She didn’t know where she was headed, what she would do._

_Out. She had to get out._

_«Manon, please!» She pretended she wasn’t listening, struggling to get her shoes on when her hands were shaking so much._

_«Don’t leave, please! We can talk about it…Just stay-»_

_The door slammed shut in his face before he’d finished his sentence, and Manon sprinted out, into the frigid night. She hardly registered the rain mixing with the tears on her face as she made her way home._

When she’d gotten home that night, Manon had collapsed onto her bed, a sobbing mess, and stayed there for a full week, before her cousin had come to check if she was still alive. 

Her phone had been mercilessly ringing the entire time, and she thought she’d heard someone knock on her door too. Yet she hadn’t opened, had left him standing there with a broken heart and a ton of unanswered questions.

What a coward she’d been. What a _pathetic, spineless coward._

Manon realized she was still staring down at her phone, at Dorian’s number. He was smiling back up at her, a picture she’d taken without him knowing.

Her chest tightened to the point of pain as she thought of him smiling like that at someone else. Surely, he must have moved on. He should have moved on.

Why was it so hard to let him go?

Maybe she was drunk, maybe she was desperate, but there was a voice whispering in her head, _What more have you got to lose?_

Picking up the bottle of wine, Manon downed the last of it and hit the button before she could change her mind, already regretting it. This would only bring more heartache.

It called once, twice, all braveness from earlier leaving her as she realized how close she was to actually hearing his voice again. That haunting, smooth voice that made her toes curl every. damn. time. 

She held her breath, waiting for him to answer.

Then the call went to voicemail, and Manon forgot all she’d wanted to say.

«Hey…It’s me.» Her voice was low, hoarse, terrified.

«I just-» She drew a shuddering breath, trying to still her shaking hands, her thundering heart. «I miss you, and I understand if you hate me for what I did, I understand if you never want to talk to me again.»

She paused, bracing herself for the truth she was about to admit.

«But I can’t stop thinking about you, Dorian. Leaving you, giving up on us, is the greatest mistake I have ever made, all because I was terrified of coming to terms with my own feelings.»

Manon had no idea where all the words were coming from, pouring from her mouth, pouring from her very soul. 

A lone tear slid down her cheek as she said her next words: «I love you. I know that now, and I wish I had understood sooner, wish I had known that day, too, because I have loved you for a long time, I was simply too afraid to acknowledge the truth.»

She let out a sob, not caring that Dorian would hear it. Her vulnerability was an offer laid bare.

«I’m not afraid of my own feelings anymore, or I’m trying not to be, at least, and there is nothing I would want more than a second chance…even if I most definitely don’t deserve it.»

«You don’t have to answer me, and I get it if you’ve already moved on, but if you think we’re worth one more try…I live you, and I’ll be here.»

Manon drew one more breath, readying herself for what might be her last goodbye. She wouldn’t call him again, she’d decided. It was all up to him now.

«I’ll wait for you.»

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr!  
> @dawninlatin


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